"I found in myself, and still find, an instinct toward a higher, or, as it is named, spiritual life, as do most men, and another toward a primitive rank and savage one, and I reverence them both. I love the wild not less than the good." -Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Today, the tiny woman who drives the bus inside my head is sitting behind my eyes with her sleeve pulled over her forearm, wiping the fog away from the window. I'll hear nothing about Monday's. A day of the week is just as inconsequential as the distance between friends of the soul. Besides, if days were seasons, Monday is spring. Fresh, dewy and just underripe. A harvest pear.

I've wanted to share this reptile experience with you for quite some time. Picture this: you're on a treasure hunt following a map. You can follow the paths to seek the grail as much as you wish. But the "X" that marks the spot, it finds you.